


Kneel and Repent

by queerinthenorth



Category: Ghost (Swedish Band)
Genre: M/M, what is my life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-13 23:39:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14123346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerinthenorth/pseuds/queerinthenorth
Summary: Papa kneels and repents for his desires





	Kneel and Repent

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my TEDtalk,  
> *leans into the microphone*  
> Ghost belongs to the queers now

You could feel it in the air after the show.

To the untrained eye, Papa looked as laidback as ever, as though he didn’t have a care in the world except where his next drink was coming from.

But you knew.

You could see a certain rigidity in his shoulders. A flicker of something in his lovely two toned eyes that could be easily mistaken as lust, but was actually something closer to a muted distress.

You could tell that, once everyone had passed out, a certain Pope would come knocking on your door, asking for ‘the usual’.

The usual being a few hours of taking the load off Papa’s shoulders. Of letting him be submissive and vulnerable in a way he could never be with anyone else.

A way that could be manipulated and twisted to make Papa’s life hell.

Which is why you’re the only one who’s ever seen that side of him.

 

A gentle, yet firm knock resonated through your room.

Your thighs started to tingle, your cock starting to stir as you anticipated what was to come.

“Come in.” you called, trying to convey a certain confidence in your tone, letting the scene start a little early.

Papa III stepped in, his head bowed, almost as though he was ashamed of what he had come to need and desire.

You strode over to him, hand gripping his chin firmly, and tilted his head upwards.

“You know how this goes, my love. Before you can have what we both know you need, you must beg for it.” you said, hissing, your warm breath making the hairs on his neck stand up.

Papa got on his knees in front of you, head bowed so deeply that he was almost touching those soft, supple lips to the leather of your favorite boots.

“Master, please. I need you. I need you to pound me until I cry, choke me until I cannot breathe. I need the touch of your body against mine. Please.” he said, breath getting caught in his throat as he admitted to his deepest, most intimate desires.

“Good boy.” you said, pressing the tip of your boot to his throat, gently at first, but steadily getting firmer.

You shove Papa to the ground with the sole of your boot.

He looks up at you, breathing heavily, eagerly awaiting your next move.

“Strip. I want to see that beautiful body of yours.”

He eagerly pulled his outfit off, cock standing at attention as soon as he pulled his pants off.

You knelt down so you were at the same height as Papa, his cock blocking the view of his soft, pale throat.

You wrap your hand around his tender cock, roughly moving it up and down, soon figuring out the pace Papa enjoyed, and slowing it down, drawing out his pleasure as much as possible.

Letting him get to the brink several times, but stopping just short of his orgasm until he was almost crying. Pleading for you to let him cum already, to let him feel you inside him, stretching him out until he feels as though he might tear in half.

You decided to take mercy on him, but not too much.

Papa spit in your palm after a not so subtle growl that whatever he gave you was all the lube he was going to get.

You slathered his spit on your cock, and began to push into Papa.

Your hips snapped against his at a brutal pace as he gripped your cock in the most intimate way, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Don’t you dare fucking cum, you filthy fucking whore.” you growled, pinching the slit of his cock, making it almost impossible for him to cum as you filled his tight ass with your cum.

Papa cried at the feeling of you filling him, but not being allowed to cum quite yet.

You pulled out, enjoying the sight of your cum dripping out of his ass.

“I want to watch you enjoy the feeling of cumming, knowing that I’m the only person who will truly appreciate the beauty of your lust.”

Papa sighed as he began to stroke his cock, biting back a moan as he got closer and closer to cumming.

He finally came, his cum dirtying your otherwise impeccable boots.

“I want to watch you lick it off. Clean my boots with that filthy tongue of yours.” you whispered, running your hands through his hair as he began to lap the salty cum off your boots.

After he was done, you helped him up and walked with him to the bathroom.

Papa might be your superior, but every now and again, you enjoyed being his superior.

 

**Author's Note:**

> What were those opening notes besides a desperate attempt at memery?  
> I'm not sure, but it's certainly something.  
> The title was stolen from Confess by William Control  
> Btw, hit me up on aestheticallycatholic.tumblr.com if you wanna give me ideas for my late night writing binges


End file.
